The Diamond of Drury Lane Read Online Free PDF

is required on the streets of London than is usually taught to young ladies and gentlemen. Believe me when I assure you that I would not have survived long in my present situation if I had not learned this early on. I hope you are not unduly shocked for there is much more of the like to come.)
    I ran as fast as I could out on to the piazza and dodged under one of the arches of the houses flanking the market place. I shook out my skirt and scraped my shoes on a piece of old sacking lying in the corner. Thankfully, the cold weather had quelled some of the riper odours of the street: the refuse, piss and dung that gave our streets their distinctive odour were noticeably less overwhelming this morning. This was just as well as I was now carrying most of it on my shoes and skirt.But the cold had another consequence: having neglected to put on a shawl over my woollen dress, I was already shivering. Time to find the violinist and get back into the warm.
    I looked around the piazza. It was a crisp winter’s day . . . the painted houses stood out gaily against the bright blue sky, each roof ridge, each chimney pot sharp and distinct. At first I saw nothing unusual; just the normal collection of servants making purchases, stallholders waylaying the naïve with rotten fruits hidden under their most gleaming articles for sale, apprentice boys lounging outside the inns finishing a late breakfast, gentlemen passing in and out of the coffee houses.
    Then I spotted him. I had not seen him at first because he was, as I had feared, surrounded by a crowd of some of the roughest boys of the market, pushed up against the stone monument in the centre of the square. Foremost amongst them was a tall, thin youth of about seventeen with a close-cropped head of dark hair. It was Billy Shepherd, the leader of one of the gangs that vies for control of the market underworld. I’ve known Billy eversince I first played on the streets: he was a bully then and shows no signs of improvement as he gets older. Of course, he is by no means the only tyrant in Covent Garden. The thing that makes Billy different, that has thrust him to the head of his gang, is that he is clever. He links a total absence of moral scruples with the cunning of a fox. Let me put it this way: if the Devil challenged him to a sinning match, and they were taking bets, I’d put my money on Billy to win. You don’t believe me? Well, here’s my shilling, Reader: put yours down on the table and we’ll see who’s the richer at the end of the adventure.
    Knowing Billy as I do, I looked anxiously around, wondering if Syd’s gang was anywhere in sight. Syd was Billy’s rival for mastery of the square. Though a gentle giant, Syd had a mean pair of fists when roused to defend his territory. If I could persuade him to take Pedro under his wing, he would look after him. Unfortunately, I could see neither hide nor hair of my friend. I was on my own if I wanted to return Pedro to the theatre in one piece. And I had better act quickly for Billynow advanced on Pedro and grabbed him by the jacket. Pedro stared back at him in disbelief, confused by the attack he had done nothing to provoke. He didn’t understand that Billy needed no excuse.
    ‘Oi! Billy!’ I shouted, running over the cobbles to reach them. ‘Leave him! He’s with me!’
    Billy leant coolly against the pillar, pinning Pedro by the throat. A couple of his burly mates chuckled as I came sliding to a stop at the bottom of the steps to the monument.
    ‘Found yourself a beau, ’ave you, Cat?’ he sneered. ‘Scraping the barrel with this one, ain’t you? What’s wrong with one of us?’ His eyes, pieces of ice in his pasty face, sparkled maliciously as he looked down at me.
    ‘Oh, hold your tongue!’ I snapped back, annoyed to feel that I was blushing. ‘He’s not my beau. I only met him this morning but he saved my neck at the theatre just now.’
    ‘Saved your pretty white neck, did he?’ said Billy. ‘Well, ain’t